"I feel black is fitting today," said Kayla as we got ready to leave the hotel this morning. We were going to visit World War Two monuments, specifically a German Cemetary, the D-Day beaches, an the Normandy American Cemetary and Memorial.
Before we disembarked at the German cemetary, Madame B. reminded us that many of the men soldiers did not necessarily want to fight, or agree with the German perspective. I entered the memorial with that in mind.
Upon walking through the entry way, my attention was instantly seized by a hill in the middle of the path way. On top stood a cross with a figure on either side, probably Mother Mary and Jesus, though I was not sure. Some how that sight made me realize even more that the opposing side was not a mass of angry, red faced men rapidly casting explosives at the good guys-they were people who needed Jesus as their savior too.
I took measured steps between the headstones. Initially, I thought they all looked alike and it was a waste of time. But, upon taking a closer look, each told not only the name of the soldier, but their date of birth and death. Most of those men were nineteen years old. I started thinking about their mothers who mourned their passing; their high school sweet hearts who so desperately wanted them home. Other soldiers were in their thirties and fourties. They probably had families with children. I'll bet that 32 year old man had a little girl who ran to get a hug when he came home from work. I'll bet he would toss her in the air and she would giggle and her smile light up his life. I know that she was very sad when she found out her Daddy would not be coming home. I know her life was never the same.
I was taken aback by the number of unknown soldiers who were buried there. Many headstones simply read "Ein Soldat Deutsch," meaning "One German Soldier." Some marked the resting place of five unknown German soldiers! Men whose families would never know for certain how they died. Men who gave up everything for a cause, and prayed to God their life would not be required too. I know they were the bad guys, but I became rather emotionally distraught anyway.
A second bus ride took us to the D-Day beaches. Already in a somber mood, I cried a little when I read the plaques describing the battle that took place on that coast line. I happened to find an English speaking tour group, so I stood and listened to what the guide had to say. As it turns out, the soldiers who landed on the beach had rockest to fire ropes with hooks on the end so that they could climb and be on the plateau where they would start their inland offensive. As they crossed the English channel, many of the ropes got wet. When they were fired high in the sky, they came crashing back down because the rocket did not have enough thrust to carry the entire contraption with it. Can you imagine what that must have been like? Rocketing a giant hook in the air, only to have it come crashing back down on top of you. Your only path forward doubling back and returning to whence it came. How depressing!
I began my walk through the bunkers alone, but was soon joined by Josh. Conversation kept me from sinking into a terribly melodramatic state, and I appreciated that. We climbed in and on bunker after bunker, walking between the hundreds of craters that pocketed the ground. I was amazed at the sheer number of them, not to mention the size! Most were large enough to fit ten people comfortably, perhaps a little more if everyone stood up. Even so, a few were small enough that I could have crossed them with in a single stride. I cannot imagine what it might have been like to function under that heavy fire; things exploding all around, dirt clouds flying up with every resounding "boom." I imagine myself feeling completely overwhelmed and unable to do anything that the good soliders did that day.
Our final stop of the day was the Normandy American Cemetary and Memorial. I decided to initially bypass the visitor center and went directly to the graves. There are 9,387 headstones. Many headstones simply said: "Here rests in honored glory, a comrade in arms known but to God." Most other gave the name, position, date of death, and hometown of each man. While I found no names potentially connected to me, I did see many last names of my friends. I wonder if I happened to see the grave of some one who I might have known, had they not been in the war.
Near the middle of the cemetary resides a chapel. The roof is covered in a beautiful mosaic featuring America, sending her sons to Europe, and France offering a laurel branch as a symbol of their gratitude. The colors were utterly atounding. I would have gazed at it for a very long time, but it was a small chapel and other people were waiting their turn.
At long last, we returned to the hotel. It was passed regular lunch hours, so we were forced to go to a grocery store to pick up sandwiches for lunch. I am a little tired of sandwiches, so I decided to treat myself to nectarines and chocolate as well. Apparently, I don't really like nectarines.
When lunch was finished and the episode of Lost rolled the credits, it was time to do homework. I have hardly done any this quarter, and it is a little strange trying to settle into getting something accomplished once more. Very little was completed, but I'm sure with a few more days practice I will get back into the mindset of doing school work and be successful in my endeavors.
Dinner time rolled around and Josh, Casey, Kayla and I headed out to find something to eat. Little did we realize that none of us were hungry. After that had been settled, we decided to walk around and explore a bit, since we had not yet really had the timet to do so. Strolling passed many closed shops I despaired of finding anything interesting, until I heard music drifting down the street. We decided to investigate and found a band performing in a square off one of the side streets. It felt very much like Seattle. Most of the crowd had dread locks and wore chunky, cable knit sweaters and Jasmine pants. Thick scarves, old sweaters, ratty jeans, fedoras and full skirts abounded. Everyone wore sandals, but also several layers of clothing to keep warm. The music was pretty good so we stayed for a while. The band had a very funny name I initially thought was an explitive. I still am not certain what it means, so I think I'll keep it a secret for now, just in case.
Dinner was kebabs eaten by the river. The water was incredibly flat, and we found a spot across from an adorable cottage surrounded by greenery. With a field and walking path behind us, it was almost like we were in a pretty little town, instead of the unattractive Caen. I really like the people I hang out with. I've never really felt like I had a group of people I could always rely on to spend time with, but we rarely go to any meal without everyone else, and always have time to watch and a little TV together before bed. I feel that is a habit that I should soon pass up, but it is always a good laugh. I'm just very tired is the problem. I know I fell asleep on the bus this morning because I had to wipe some drool off my face when we arrived at the first location. And now, here I am, staying up far past my bed time again. I am really hoping we get a free morning soon. Everyone is tired, and I think we need some a chance to sleep in again. That was one of the things I appreciated about our previous professor-we never had anything to do on Sundays, and we usually had one morning off besides that. But, we mentioned it to Casey, and since he is a nice TA he will probably put a bug in Madame's ear and we will get some more sleep soon. In the meantime, I am off to bed. Good night!
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